“I took three steps back; he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked.“I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house!“Tacos?”“Tacos?” I echoed.This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.”“I know what a taco is!”
“Tacos.""Tacos?" I echoed.This seemed to amuse him. "Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.""I know what a taco is!”
“Tofu tacos are not Mexican. I think putting tofu on anything and calling it Mexican is an insult to my people.”
“So what does Just Tacos have to do with kissing?”“Besides the fact I absolutely love both?” he asks.”
“Boy: Do you know the answer to the universe. Hungry teenager: The answer to the universe is...Tacos!!!!”
“No," I shout, because my mother doesn't know what I like anymore. "I don't eat things that bleed. Just cheese with lettuce or tomato and mayo. No dead fish or animals, please.""You see what I have to put up with?" my mother says.”